where there's a shadow, there's a light
by dontmissthis
Summary: AU. "She's pretty, almost unbelievably so, with her neatly styled curls and light spatter of freckles on her pale skin. But despite looking the part, the girl just seems uncomfortably out of place as she sits in the secluded corner by herself."


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: Maura's a med student, Jane's in her second year at BPD…you know the drill. Enjoy~**

…

Jane flops back against her friend's worn, green fabric couch in front of the television. It has a few tears on the edges and it's itchy against the back of bare legs in the summertime, but it's better than sitting at home watching lame movies for the billionth Friday night in a row.

The brown, sweating bottle of beer leaves a wet ring on the knee of her faded jeans as she starts to idly flip through the channels with a taped up remote.

"What did I tell you about putting your ratty ass sneakers on my table?" Riley chastises, pushing Jane's Chucks back to the floor as she walks by.

Jane laughs. "Well if it wasn't such a ratty ass table, I might actually listen."

Riley flops down against the opposite arm of the couch, shaking her head at her friend. "You're such an asshole sometimes."

"So I've heard," Jane retorts, grinning as she takes a sip of the beer. "Failed any more classes lately?"

"You know I don't fail classes."

Jane pointedly raises an eyebrow.

"That was in high school!" Riley exclaims, nudging Jane's leg with the tip of her shoe. "And you know it was only because of Johnny DuPrau."

"Oh, Johnny. Come sit next to me, Johnny. Smell my hair, Johnny. Tie my shoes for me, Johnny," Jane mocks, laughing deeply at Riley's snarl. "How could anyone forget?"

"I did _not_ sound like that," Riley replies, folding her arms in mock anger.

"Yeah," she scoffs, "Whatever you say."

"Shut up," is the only comeback. Riley absentmindedly starts picking at one of her nails. "How's the home life?"

"Oh, y'know. Crazy mother, asshole brothers. The usual," Jane dryly replies. "I'm about to move out actually."

"Living at home not badass enough for Officer Rizzoli?"

"Shut up," Jane laughs. "I just thought it'd be good for me. I should have enough to get an apartment in Allston pretty soon."

"Not bad," Riley commends. "You'll be close to some nice college ass out there."

Jane's cheeks almost tinge pink and she rolls her eyes. "Shut up. I'm just going there because it's cheap."

"Yeah, oh-kay. Keep telling yourself that," Riley retorts with a laugh, flinching when Jane punches her arm.

There's a loud bang as the wooden door smacks against the wall. A friend— that's filled out exponentially more than the scrawny boy she knew in high school—steps inside with a wide grin; his arms dangling with two cases of beer in each hand. "Guess who brought the goods?"

"Frost!" Jane exclaims as she jumps up, walking to him to give a one-armed hug. "Long time no see, man."

"Tell me about it," he replies with a grin. "What's it been? Two years?"

"That's about right," she agrees, taking a case from his hand. "Work's been kicking my ass."

He looks up at her as they set the bottles on the counter. "You still like it?"

"Gets better every day," she replies with a penchant Rizzoli grin as she pops off a bottlecap on the edge of the counter. "I miss you guys though."

"Ditto," he nods, using a smile to quickly cover the flash of emotion that flits across his face. He claps her shoulder good-naturedly. "You ready to get sloppy drunk and meet Riley's dumb college friends?"

Riley gasps from the living room. "I heard that!"

Frost grimaces. "I mean…wonderful and amazingly _hot_ friends?"

She rolls her eyes as Frost and Riley start to bicker back and forth just like they had for years. Some things—no matter how long she's away from them—will probably never change.

* * *

The small and now darkened living room is filled to the hilt with girls whose hair is styled nearly identical to the next, and boys with shirts designed only to show off their muscles. She's glad she has an excellent memory or she'd never be able to distinguish one person from the next.

A girl wedges beside Jane on the couch, and another sitting on the floor in front of her leans back against her knees as the movie starts. It's relatively calm considering the number of people scattered around the room and the numerous beer cans that are already empty and littering the table.

There's a squeeze to her knee and she looks to the blonde, Stacey, pressed against her right. She's cute, with her straightened hair and a skin so naturally bronzed it looks like she was born with it, but the way her lips curl around her bleached white teeth is fake enough for Jane to question why Riley really considers her a friend.

"Do you know what we're watching?" Her voice is smooth like silk, and she leans in close enough that the tips of her hair brush against Jane's arm.

"Uh," Jane looks to the black and white movie starting on the television screen. "_Night of the Living Dead_."

Stacey scrunches her nose. "Ew. Wasn't that made in like, the sixties?"

Jane nearly groans. This girl obviously doesn't have good taste in horror films, even though she does have a good taste in shirts that show off certain...assets.

Looking away, Jane takes a drag off her beer and shrugs. "Yeah, but it's pretty good. You ju—"

There's a wave of hushed huffs and groans from the people scattered around the room, and she trails off. Her brow knits and she looks over to Riley on her left. "What was that all about?"

Riley leans over and tries to discreetly point to one of the two newcomers that just walked through the door. "You see that girl? The one in the boots?"

Squinting through the darkened room, she nods. "Yeah. What about her?"

"Her name's Maura, I think. She can be really weird sometimes," Riley responds, shaking her head. "Always talking about shit nobody cares about. Real annoying."

"Huh," she replies. "Why's she here then?"

"Darcy," she points at the brunette Maura had come in with, "feels bad and drags her along. I don't think she has many other friends."

Jane frowns at that. Despite Riley's teasing and smartass remarks, she's normally one of the nicest people around. Maura must be something else if Riley hadn't even tried to befriend her.

Jane's eyes stay on her—in a very innocent and professional way, _of course—_as she makes her way to one of the empty, worn out recliners in her tight black pants that are tucked into obviously new leather boots. The burgundy sweater that hugs in all of the very best places doesn't hurt her appearance, either, if Jane is to say so herself. She's pretty, almost unbelievably so with her neatly styled curls and light spatter of freckles on her pale skin, and Jane normally would've pegged her for the hoity-toity popular types. But despite looking the part, the girl just seems uncomfortably out of place as she sits in the secluded corner by herself.

"Doesn't look so weird to me," Jane finally responds, wiping some the bottle-moisture from her hand onto her jeans.

Riley shakes her head. "You say that now, but just wait until she opens her mouth."

"Ah, come on," Jane disagrees. "She can't be that bad."

Riley quirks a brow. "Last time she was here, she tried to explain how to do a damn heart transplant. For over _twenty _minutes."

Jane's face scrunches. "Why would you need to know how to do a heart transplant?"

"Exactly."

* * *

After nearly half an hour of stealing glances out of the corner of her eye, Jane finally works up enough courage to walk over to Maura with her most confident swagger—even though Maura doesn't glance up to see it.

She settles herself against the arm of the worn down recliner. "Hey."

Maura manages a small smile as she finally looks up, though it's laced with wariness. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No." Jane grins as she taps the book in Maura's lap "Just curious about what's keeping you company, I guess."

Maura shuts the unbelievably thick volume and turns it so Jane can see the red lettering scrawled across the front. "Pragmatics of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis."

She stifles a laugh. "Um, wow. That sounds…"

"Dreadfully boring? Obtuse? Strange?" Maura says, her eyebrow arching. "Feel free to call it what you'd like. It can't be much worse than I've heard before."

Jane finally laughs at the no-nonsense Maura puts forth. "Ah, no. I was going to say _awfully complicated to read in the dark…_but I guess boring works too."

Maura's lips turn up ever so slightly, her eyes almost-embarrassedly dropping to the side. "I'm sorry. It's not very often that someone takes an interest in what I'm studying."

Jane decides not to admit that she has absolutely no interest either.

Maura's nose scrunches the tiniest bit as a scream erupts from the television—if Jane hadn't been looking so closely, she would've missed it—and Jane nudges her with an amused grin. "Killer zombie movies not your thing?"

"Not particularly. I find that there are too many logistical faults for it to be enjoyable," she replies, crossing her legs in a way that the jeans get tighter on her knees and attracts Jane's eyes. "And no one here wants to hear about those faults, as I've so learned in the past."

She attempts to shrug nonchalantly, looking at Maura out of the corner of her eye. "I'd like to hear about 'em."

Maura's eyes light up involuntarily but, trying to hide her excitement, she tilts her head. "You would?"

"Sure. I've seen this movie hundreds of times anyway," she replies before giving the smallest wink. "Maybe you can spice it up for me."

* * *

Sometime during the long explanation, Jane had dropped from the arm of the recliner to being nestled tightly by Maura's side in the narrow plush seat.

She shifts slightly; only enough to kick her feet up on the table, but not too much as to pull away. "So that's why it wouldn't make sense for them to eat brains?"

Maura nods, grinning as she sticks one finger in the air. "Precisely."

"Huh," she grunts, taking a swig of her lukewarm beer. "That's kinda neat."

"Science can be very _neat_," Maura replies in full geek mode. She playfully pokes Jane's knee. "You just have to give it a chance."

Jane grins back. "Or maybe I just needed someone like you to teach me."

Maura seriously nods, clearly not picking up on the overture. "Studies have shown that the learning environment plays a great deal in the information retention process and enjoyment of the subject."

"Ah, right," Jane pretends to agree with a nod. She shakes her empty bottle lightly. "You want a drink? I think I have a few more in the fridge."

Maura politely smiles. "No, thank you."

"You sure?" Jane asks, starting to stand and angle towards the kitchen.

"To be honest, I'm not very fond of beer," Maura replies, demurely shaking her head.

Jane's eyebrows shoot up. She thought nearly everyone their age liked their alcohol the same way: cheap and alcoholic.

Maura gives a slight shrug. "I tend to prefer wine. Perhaps even a hard liquor every now and then."

Jane laughs. "So you like wine and taking shots? Alright then," Jane says, pulling on Maura's hand until she reluctantly stands. "I've got you covered."

* * *

Jane rambles through the freezer, moving frozen food this way and that before eventually giving up to ramble through each cabinet—grumbling and groaning and giving frustrated sighs as Maura looks on in amusement.

Finally—after going through nearly every kitchen cabinet—she pulls out a bottle filled with golden liquid.

"I knew I hid this stuff somewhere," she says, triumphantly holding it up towards Maura with a smirk. "Tequila hard enough for you?"

Maura's mouth curls into a mischievous smile, her eyebrow arching slightly. "Perfect, actually."

Jane chuckles at the confidence, the very _sexy_ confidence, that briefly emanates from Maura as the words are spoken. "Well I think your version of tequila might be very different from my version of tequila."

Maura tilts her head, presumably in confusion, and it's so cute that Jane has to keep from reaching out and wiping away the wrinkles on her brow. "How so?"

The amber liquid sloshes around in the plastic bottle as Jane opens the lid. "Go ahead," she holds it out to Maura. "Take a good whiff."

Almost instantly, Maura's eyes water and a shiver works down her spine. Her face scrunches up in disgust as she pushes the bottle away from her face. "Jane, that's…is that even safe to drink?"

Laughing, Jane puts the lid back on. "Yep. Five dollar special from the gas station down the road. Still up for it?"

There's a moment of silence. A moment where Maura's face falters into something unreadable. Jane's expression instantly softens.

"Hey, don't think I'm pressuring you or anything. It's cool if you don't want to. Or I could even run to town and get some wine if you'd rather—"

"No," Maura refutes, a reassuring smile on her face. "I want to. I was trying to remember if I had parked my car in a safe location for the night if I need to take a cab home."

"What, you don't want to stay all night like the rest of these idiots?" Jane teases.

"No," Maura's smile slightly falters. "Not particularly."

"Why not?"

There's a pause and then the bottle of alcohol is slipping from Jane's fingers and gripped firmly in Maura's hand as a deflection. She starts to walk up the stairs only looking back over her shoulder with a devilish smile to say, "Well? Are you going to join me or not?"

* * *

"You're in med school?" Jane incredulously asks, the small shot of alcohol in her hand sloshing over the rim of the glass. "No shit?"

"No shit…" Maura repeats, her pale skin flushed pink. "That means—"

"No bullshit," Jane interrupts, already getting used to the fact that Maura has absolutely no clue when it comes to slang. "I'm asking if you're lying to me."

Maura slowly shakes her head, like it weighs at least a pound more than it did only twenty minutes ago. "No. I can't lie."

Jane scoffs. "Everyone can lie."

"Not me," Maura refutes. She sets her glass down on the carpet between them, shifting her legs to get into a more comfortable sitting position on the bedroom floor. "It causes me to suffer from urticaria and bouts of syncope_."_

"Uh…what?"

"I get hives and faint shortly after," Maura simplifies. "So rather than do something embarrassing that will further ostracize me, I don't even attempt to lie. It's easier this way."

"Oh." Jane takes a sip of her drink, though not taking her eyes away from the woman in front of her. In the past hour, she's learned just enough about Maura to make her want to know more. Maura's awkward and weird and isn't interested in a damn thing that most people their age are, all while being funny and endearing and amazing and beautiful.

She's a walking conundrum; an enigma Jane wants to solve.

Maura glances down to her watch, and an unexpected wave of disappointment washes over Jane.

"Tired of me already?" she half-heartedly teases.

"Not at all. It's a habit formed from the demands of my rigorous schedule and my dislike of being tardy," Maura corrects, her hand lightly resting on Jane's thigh in consolation. Jane feels the heat of the touch long after it's removed. "For once, I'm actually in no hurry to leave."

Jane watches as Maura brings more of the amber colored liquid to her lips; listens to the sharp intake of breath after Maura swallows. "And why's that?"

Maura licks her lips, the strong taste lingering there burns her tongue. "I don't…" she pauses, looking to the gray carpet as she looks for the words to say.

"I'm not uncomfortable," she finally finishes matter-of-factly, as if those three words are able to perfectly explain why she's sitting on a bedroom floor drinking tequila with a damn near stranger.

"Is that why you weren't going to stay all night?" Jane asks quietly, and Maura scrunches her brow. "Because they make you feel uncomfortable?"

The slight nod of Maura's head, the way she averts her eyes, is enough to make Jane clench her jaw. In less than a few hours she had uncovered the gem that is Maura Isles. And it's infuriating to know that most of those people downstairs, more concerned with drinking and their social status among their peers, had even tried to know her.

"People are assholes," Jane finally says, the time of night and the alcohol flowing through her system giving her a softer edge than usual. "But you'll find your place someday. Maybe not right now, but so what? You'll find where you belong."

In a surprising, and maybe uncharacteristic move, Maura takes a drawl straight from the bottle. This time, there's no reaction when it burns in her throat. When she finally looks back to Jane, her hazel eyes are glassy. "Have you figured out where you belong, Jane Rizzoli?"

"No," Jane honestly replies, taking the bottle from Maura's hand. "But I'm working on it."

* * *

Maura Isles is a giggler.

A bona-fide, tequila sipping giggler.

Jane watches in amusement as Maura, make-up still impeccable and skin only slightly flushed, chuckles as she tries to finish another joke that Jane isn't quite sure she's supposed to understand.

"And he says," Maura laughs, her eyes shiny and bright, "Entropy isn't what it used to be!"

Grinning, Jane raises a brow as Maura falls into another fit of hysterics. Her laugh is sweet and light and pure, and even being slightly tipsy doesn't tarnish the sound.

"Do you sit around looking up nerd jokes or something?"

"Nooo," Maura draws out, playfully poking Jane's arm. "I simply derive great joy from reading them in Scientific Monthly."

"Oh, then that's much better," Jane teases.

"Would you like to hear another?"

As Maura quietly beings to snicker again, Jane can't help but chuckle along. "If it behooves you."

"Behooooove," Maura humorously repeats. "Did you know _behoove_ is derived from the Middle English _behoven _which is from the Old English _behōfian_?"

Jane stares at her in awed disbelief. "You're actually the only person I know that gets smarter the more they drink."

"I'm most likely no smarter now than before," Maura refutes, her finger sticking in the air. "My inhibitions are simply lowered which causes me to no longer able to filter the things I say as well as I do when completely sober."

"Then I'd hate to be up against you when you're really drunk," Jane starts, "You'd talk me under a table in two seconds flat."

"I've actually never been completely inebriated," Maura admits. "And I don't think I would care to be, honestly."

"Why's that?"

"It seems so…careless. What if something were to happen to me? I wouldn't be in the right state of mind to get to the help that could potentially save my life."

Jane shrugs. "That's why you stay in a group."

Maura says nothing for a long moment and a flick of something, something not entirely sad but not happy either, flashes on her face.

_Loneliness_, Jane finally realizes.

Trying to deflect from how she truly feels about that revelation, she tentatively gives her new friend's knee a squeeze and smirks. "Well if you ever want to get white girl wasted, you know who to call."

"As alluring as that sounds, I think I'll refrain." Maura finally looks up to Jane, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Thank you, though."

And it's not just a _thank you_ for the offer. It's a thank you for the entire night; a thank you for Jane's easy acceptance of her. A thank you for treating her more kindly in the past five hours than most have treated her in years. But she doesn't have to elaborate on any of that. Intuitively, Jane knows it and, somehow, Maura knows that Jane knows it, too.

They share a small, understanding grin charged with the undercurrents of something else.

Jane suddenly rises wobbly to her feet. "You still want that cab or are you up for spending the rest of the night here with me instead?"

* * *

"Do you think she's going to mind? This feels terribly intrusive," Maura stage whispers, warily sitting down on the edge of Riley's bed.

"Nah," Jane says, pulling back the blanket on the bed. "She would've been up here already if she was going to use it."

"Are you sure?"

Jane pauses as she looks over to a wary and panicked looking Maura. A smile slowly starts to form on her face. "You've never been in trouble before, have you?"

"When I was four, I accidentally dropped a pie that was going to be used at a Christmas gala," Maura explains with a small shrug. "But otherwise, no. Not really."

"I knew it," Jane laughs.

"As a cop, I would think you would find it to be a good thing that I didn't have a penchant for wreaking havoc," Maura replies, her eyebrow arched challengingly; playfully.

Jane shakes her head. "I don't. You're just…You are something else, Maura Isles." But Maura's brow wrinkles and Jane lamely tries to back track. "But in a good way. You know…good. Like really good-"

"I gathered that," Maura retorts, grinning as she lies down on top of the blankets.

Jane smirks. "Shut up."

The light is turned off and Jane scrambles into the bed with even less grace than usual. Maura begins giggling again as Jane's fingers catch the sensitive side of her ribs.

"Sorry," Jane mumbles, jerking her hand back immediately. "Can't see."

"Add that to the reduction of your hand-eye coordination due to the alcohol consumption, and it's truly a marvel that you even made your way to the bed," Maura easily replies, apparently nonplussed by Jane's fingers getting in her business.

"Yeah," Jane shakily replies, "That too, I guess."

An energy charged silence, to Jane anyway, falls over them for what seems like incredibly long moments. The pillowcase sounds unnaturally loud as she dares to tilt her head in Maura's direction. But instead of finding her new friend fighting against the weight of the air pressing down around them, she sees a serene, almost unimaginably picturesque expression painted on Maura's sleeping face.

The feel of Maura's cashmere sweater lingers on her fingertips as Jane, too, decides to finally close her eyes.

* * *

"Aw, come on, Rizzoli! Not in my bed!"

Jane groggily rubs her eyes as Riley's voice rouses her from sleep. "What?"

"Tell me you did not get laid in my bed. You kno—

"Hey, whoa!" Jane abruptly sits up, her wild hair flying about her face. "We didn't—no. We slept. Just…sleeping. There was no—fuck you," she growls, tossing a pillow as she realizes Riley is laughing. "Asshole."

"No need to get defensive," Riley replies, her hands raised in mock defense. "I was just kidding. Unless you really did…"

"I said we didn't," Jane replies. "So drop it."

"Alright, alright." Riley sits down on the edge of the bed. The makeup on her face is obviously from last night and her hair is in wisps around her head. "Did you at least have a good time?"

Slowly, a small grin forms on her face. "Yeah, I did."

"Great! We'll do something at your new place next time."

Jane grouchily, as she is known to be in the morning, rolls her eyes as she falls back against the pillows. "Only if you go make me breakfast."

"Sure, Princess. A nice homemade bowl of cereal coming right up," Riley retorts.

As soon as Riley leaves, Jane disappointedly looks to the now empty side of the bed next to her. Even though she has only known Maura half a day at most, she's surprised that Maura had left without even a goodbye. Maybe that _something_ Jane had felt hadn't been there for Maura at all. Maybe Jane had just been a friendly face to get her through a lonely night. Maybe. But now, sitting there alone, she realizes she'll probably never know for sure.

Sighing, Jane dangles her legs off the edge of the bed to stand. But there, next to the half-empty bottle of tequila on the nightstand is a piece of paper that causes her pause. She picks it up and, almost instantly, a smile crosses her face.

_Call me…if it so behooves you_, it reads, with ten digits neatly written underneath.

* * *

**TBC or not TBC, we will see. Thank you for reading, as always. **


End file.
